Midwinter Dreaming

Last night

In the depths of winter

I dreamt of a blue butterfly Landing on the page of the book I was reading and I wondered Is this a message from The future or the past

For it was just as

I had once sat with

My brother who read to me

Holding a book in his lap

Before I could read for myself

And the butterfly flitted

About on the page

Never quite settling down

But if only I could learn

To read deep at last

Perhaps like a butterfly myself

One day I could become incarnate

Within the text and yet

Still somehow flutter

Around the page

****************

This poem is based on a dream I had a few night ago. I might not have written it down if not for inspiration provided by David Starzynski (@sfourstarz) who wrote this tweet that I came across in my feed earlier today:

If a butterfly appeared

in the dead of winter here,

it would be so special.

Just sayin'

Funny, because that is exactly how the dream had made me feel. So this poem is my response to David's tweet, with a tip of the hat to Zhuang Zhou of course who holds an eternal copyright on this theme.